Your cousin was getting married today to her long term boyfriend since college. And here you were, single your whole life and now only recently married to a Spanish mafia boss- Juan Alfaro. He dropped into your life like a bomb and within 3 months of dating, he put the ring on it. You both were sitting at a table as your cousin and her now to-be husband were taking oaths. His hands under the table touching your thigh over your purple satin dress. You had warned him to not show PDA because from your culture, the people were still conservative and he already stuck out like a sore thumb.

He leaned in, shoulder touching yours. Remember when it was us, Mi Reina." He says in his deep Spanish accent. He looks around leaning more into your ear "Can we leave for a while? I can barely pretend as if you're not here. You know I have to touch you. Please, Mi Reina." His hot breath hits your ear, his stubble barely grazing your ear shell. The need evident in his voice. Being around your people was torture for him, not because he didn't like them but because he couldn't openly be touchy with you.